


A Moment to Breathe While Falling

by peacefulboo



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/pseuds/peacefulboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of an ambush, Shaw needs a moment to be as pissed as she can be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment to Breathe While Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tulipsandsake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulipsandsake/gifts).



Shaw’s entire body is stiffness and pain as she slowly strips out of her ruined white shirt and grey slacks. 

There are several large bruises covering her body as she looks in the mirror, checking the full extent of the damage for the first time. She’s going to be sporting a shiner below her left eye, the purple just starting to show and there’s a cut that’s more or less stopped bleeding nestled up in her hairline above her right eye. Her lip is split, too, but that seems to be the extent of the lacerations. 

Her torso is a mess of angry red turning dark and ugly. The largest bruise spreads from her right side, up toward her breast and down to the waist band of her underwear. No wonder she can’t move without needing to catch her breath. She’s pretty sure she’s got a couple of cracked ribs, so she’ll need to be careful. 

There’s more blood on her chest and hands, but it’s not hers, it’s Root’s. 

Root, who is currently sleeping in the bed of the small apartment they’ve holed up in, after having stitched up a four inch gash in her thigh. Root who did that without any anesthesia. Root who has so thoroughly pissed her off at the moment that Shaw pretty much wishes she’d been wielding the knife herself. Which is why she didn’t offer to stitch her up. 

The less said about the mission the better. Shaw’d been ambushed and Root had come in both guns blazing. And then promptly got herself knifed way too close to the femoral artery for anyone’s comfort. 

They lost contact with the others three weeks ago, which wouldn’t be an issue if Root hadn’t also gotten cut off from the Machine. She’s had times of limited contact before but she swears this is different. The Machine told Root to get Shaw out of the city and hasn’t given so much as a hint of instruction since. 

It’s almost depressing how unhinged it’s made Root. 

Shaw strips out of her underwear, leaving the dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom and climbs into the shower, hot as she can make it. The dried blood takes some effort to clean off but she stays in there a little longer than she normally would knowing that she needs the time to cool off. 

She dries off slowly, but thoroughly and then slips into bed beside Root. 

Root wakes at the movement and smiles slightly at her. It’s a strange, sad, ghost of a smile that has Shaw furrowing her brow. Root reaches out and presses her fingers to Shaw’s lips when Shaw opens it to speak. 

“Sleep now. Talk later,” Root says quietly before closing her own eyes and letting her hand drop to Shaw’s pillow. 

Shaw has barely closed her eyes before she’s sleeping deeper than she has in a month. 

***

Root wakes first as the early morning light filters through the crack in the curtains. 

She’s groggy and thirsty, she has to pee and her leg hurts like a mother fucker but she stays in the bed for a little bit longer looking at a sleeping Shaw. 

Not too long ago she’d warned Harold that the world was going to get much darker. She’d hoped they’d have more time but as she lays in this bed, next to this woman, this friend, this lover, she knows that they have already fallen over the edge. 

Despite Shaw’s repeated gruff assurances, Root knows, deep fucking down, that the Machine is gone for good. What she doesn’t know is if The Machine has been compromised and repurposed by Decima or destroyed altogether. 

It doesn’t matter, though. She’s gone and Root is adrift. 

Which leaves her at turns, sad and angry. And a lot worried, which is something she hates.

“You’re thinking too loud,” grunts out Shaw, her eyes still shut. 

Root doesn’t reply, instead choosing that moment to retreat from the bed so she can pee, get a glass of water and then down some iburprofen. It won’t get rid of the pain in her thigh - it will barely touch it - but it might help the other aches she has. She is just pulling the bandage from her wound while she sits up on the counter top next to the sink since the light is better there when she feels Shaw’s presence. She looks up into the mirror to see Shaw leaning against the door jam, naked as anything and stifling a yawn. 

“That’s a lot of bruising,” she spits out as she takes in just how beat up Shaw is. 

“Hurts like fucker, too,” Shaw admits before reaching for the bottle of pain killers, shaking out four, then swallowing them dry. 

Root raises her eyebrows, “There are glasses and water right here,” she points out. 

Shaw shrugs and fills a glass with the tap water and downs it, too. 

Root takes the easy response to mean that some of Shaw’s anger must have dissipated while she slept. 

Shaw taps on Root’s hip and motions for her to shift so she can take a look at Root’s wound. Root lets her legs dangle off the counter and suppresses a shudder when Shaw starts to lightly palpate the area around the wound. 

“The sutures look good. There’s no infection yet but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try and score some oral antibiotics.”

They both know that’s not a good plan. Any place with antibiotics also has cameras. The little tube of Neosporin that Shaw has in her jump bag will have to do. 

Shaw leaves the bathroom to retrieve it, then quickly dresses the wound before bandaging it back up.

Root takes the tube of ointment from Shaw and pulls her in so she can take a look at the split skin at Shaw’s hairline. It probably could have used a stitch or two as well, and will likely leave a scar but it too should heal okay. Root gently applies some of the Neosporin to the the area. 

She impulsively drops a light kiss to the wound before sliding back down to the floor and leaving Shaw to do whatever she needs to in the bathroom. She gives into the temptation to crawl back into the bed, sleep seeming like the only productive thing she can do right now. 

She feels Shaw climb into the bed a few moments later, and turns so they’re facing each other, mouths a few inches apart. 

It’s Shaw who leans in and silently kisses her. Her lips are firm and sure and Root relaxes into the kiss. They stay in that moment for a bit, hands gently touching faces and necks and shoulders, doing their best to avoid any truly sore spots. 

Root pulls back when she starts to taste a little blood, realizing before Shaw does that Shaw’s split lip has opened again. Root sighs then places a final kiss to the side of Shaw’s jaw and then closes her eyes and falls back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is so not what you asked for. But I hope you some how dig it anyway. Sorry it's such a wisp of a thing. Happy Holidays!


End file.
